Light in the Darkest Hour
by Wandering Raccoon
Summary: What does he have left to live for?


Disclaimer: I don't own it, so you don't sue.  
  
  


**Light in the Darkest Hour**

By Skye Dragon

  
  
  
Skye's story note: Okay, it's been awhile since I wrote I-man fiction. But I thought it was apporipate. Anyways, this story takes place just before the Ralph eposide. I've not heard anything about Darien's parents, so anything about them that was said in an eposide, I missed it. So this story goes with the assumption that Darien's parents were killed earily on in his life and when they died, Darien and Kevin were sent to live with their aunt and uncle.  
  
Skye's rambling spot: Hey you guys, I want to dedicate this story to one of my friends. I won't say his name, but he knows who he is. A good while ago, (I don't know when because I never really did get the full story until just the other day) my guy friend was dating this girl. I never met her, so I don't know what she was like. Then one day the girl moved away to another state that is like, just about on the other side of the U.S. But she and my friend kept up the relationship. Until one day she called him on the phone and told him that she loved him. Then she held a gun to her head and fired. All the while with my friend still on the phone. And like I said I didn't find all of this out for a good while afterwards. But I am very proud of him. I am proud of him because he didn't let this get to him. I mean, it shook him up and he was messed up for several days afterwards (who wouldn't be?) but he didn't just constantly dwell on it. I fear if he had then he might have followed her example and killed himself. And I'm sure it must take a **LOT** of courage on his part to deal with this. I personally wouldn't know as I am blessed with a sheltered life (something I thank God for). But I can imagine the pain. And I have never told him just how proud I am of him or how glad I am that he is still here. I've never mentioned it to him, I guess because I didn't know how to bring it up without hurting him. That is why I wrote this story for him.  
And if you read this, I want you to know that I do love you and I am very, very glad you are here. I keep you in my prayers. And for everyone else that has had their lives touched by suicide, I pray for you too. That you may have the courage to pull through it. And for anyone who knows someone who is considering suicide, or anyone who themselves has considered suicide, I beg you not to. You may think no one loves you, but I assure you that is false. There **IS** someone who loves you. They may be scared to say it, or they may not show it in a way you recognize, but the love is still there. And you will hurt them deeply if you go through with it. I hope you love them enough to not want to ruin their lives.   
And remember, no matter how violent the storm, or how much stuff gets knocked down, or even how long the storm lasts, the sun will always break through in the end. And blue skies will prevail.  
Now that I've got all that off my chest, I will go on with the story.  
  
  


~*~*~*~

  
White light flashed on the silver.  
  
Flawless, perfect silver.  
  
Unblemished in anyway.  
  
Pure.  
  
Clean.  
  
A smile appeared on his lips as he twisted the blade in the air, watching the light dance over it's surface. So perfect, and so deadly.  
  
He continued twirling it in his hand, his eyes following it's every move, his mind focused entirely on it.  
  
It would be his savior.  
  
It was the key that would free him from the trap his life was. It would be the ultimate painkiller for him. It would release him from the tormentors in his life, and the demon in his head.  
  
Darien smiled at that thought. Yes, this blade, small as it was, would be the thing that would finally give him freedom. True freedom.  
  
Something in the back of his head, was bothering him. Some little voice whispering softly yet firmly that this was not how to end the pain.  
  
Darien tried to banish the little voice, but it would not go away.  
  
_What about your friends?_ It whispered.  
  
"I have no friends." Darien answered aloud. Great. Now he was talking to himself. Oh well, it didn't matter. No one was here to hear him. And even if they were, what would it matter if they thought he was insane? He wouldn't be here to listen to them . . .  
  
_What about Hobbes? Claire? The Official?_  
  
Darien snorted. They were not his friends. They just used him. Forced him to do their dirty work. They didn't even pay him well . . .   
  
What would they care if he died? They would only see it as a loss of the gland.   
  
That was actually one of the reasons Darien was doing this. The gland. If he died out in the field, then they would harvest the gland and implant it in someone else. That was why he had to die like this. If the gland stayed in his dead body long enough, then the gland would die too.  
  
Which was why he had to do this now. It was nighttime now. The others were doubtless all asleep in their nice warm beds. They wouldn't know anything was even wrong with him until the morning. By then, the gland would have been shut off from oxygen and nutrients for long enough that it would have already started to rot.  
  
_What about Kevin?_  
  
Kevin? What about Kevin? Kevin was dead. Darien would be seeing his brother again soon. What did Kevin have to lose by Darien's suicide?  
  
_Kevin wouldn't want you to give up like this._ Darien was starting to get annoyed with the little voice. _What about Arnaud? You never caught him. He could go on and kill others._  
  
Darien considered this. He hadn't thought of that. But then, it didn't matter. With Darien dead, Arnaud wouldn't be able to make a new gland. And besides, there were others in the world who could catch him. Even though it did mean Darien would be breaking his vow to get revenge for Kevin . . .  
  
Oh well, Darien had never let a little promise stop him before, had he? And besides, wouldn't Kevin prefer to see his brother at peace for once rather than see Arnaud dead?  
  
The only one's who'd ever loved him were dead. Kevin, his parents, his uncle . . .  
  
_Your aunt isn't dead._  
  
True, she wasn't dead. Not yet. But she was getting on in years, living in a retirement home. Her time would come sooner or later.  
  
_Casey loved you._  
  
Darien blinked. Casey . . . He hadn't thought about her for a while now.   
  
Unbidden, an image of her entered his mind. He saw the many nights they had spent together. Her warm body held close to his own. For a fleeting moment, Darien felt again the warmness in his stomach that was there when he'd been with her. He had loved her. And she had loved him. . .  
  
"No!" Darien shook his head. Casey hadn't loved him. She'd loved his lies. Images of the trail day came back to him. He saw again the horrified shock on her face when she'd realized that he was an con-artist. He remembered one of his last conversations with her. She'd accused him of lying to her. Darien had admitted that, and eagerly apologized. But Casey had been furious.   
  
_"No, no, no, wait, wait a minute," Darien had pleaded, tring to get her to listen to him. "Wait a minute. That was different. That wasn't even technically a con."  
  
"360 days I am falling in love with a total lie, and that is not technically a con?" Casey demanded, outraged.  
  
"No, no, see a con is for profit. I did that because I…"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I did it because. . . " Darien trailed off, unsure how to end the sentance._  
  
Casey glared at him, and, not wanting to hear any more of his lies, she stormed off.   
  
No, Casey hadn't loved him. At least, not the real him. Gritting his teeth, Darien clenched his fist around the knife handle. All this reminiscing was getting him no where. He'd already decided he was going to do this, so why was he waiting?  
  
Looking down at his lap, Darien placed his left hand on his left knee, his wrist up. Then, slowly, he held the knife to the tender skin. The voice inside his head was going crazy now, pleading with him. But now Darien was able to ignore it. Putting the blade against his skin, Darien suddenly hesitated. This would hurt.   
  
Staring at the clean, pure blade next to his exposed wrist, Darien had a sudden flash of what this horrible action would cause, but just as quickly as it came, the feeling left. And finally, gritting his teeth, he shoved the blade into his arm.  
  
The pain was immediate, causing him to cry out. Darien quickly bit his tongue to keep from screaming. He didn't want anyone to get suspicious and decide to check in on him.   
  
Forcing himself to drag the knife down his arm, Darien watched the liquid crimson spill forth. His arm was quickly covered in it, and it spilled onto his pants and then the bed, before finally hitting the floor.   
  
Once the initial pain was gone, Darien found himself staring at the flow with calm detachment. He could feel it pouring out of him. He could feel his very life slipping away.  
  
The knife fell to the floor then. Darien looked at it and then realized that he didn't have the strength to cut open his other wrist. Oh well, he would die either way. This would just be slower.  
  
Darien leaned back then, falling backwards on his bed, his arms spread to either side of him. The blood continued to pool around his left arm. Turning his head, Darien watched the red staining his bed cover. After a moment, his vision began to swim. Darien closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.  
  
"Darien. . ."  
  
Huh? What was that?   
  
"Darien!"   
  
It was louder now. Crap! Someone's found me! But it doesn't sound like Hobbes or Claire . . .   
  
"Darien, you can't do this. You still have work to do."  
  
Darien opened his eyes and openly gaped at what he saw. It was him.  
  
"Kevin . . . ?" Darien breathed  
  
The figure of his brother gazed at Darien mournfully. "Darien, you can't die. It's not your time. You still have work to do. The gland, . . ." The spirit of Kevin Fawks trailed off, it's face an unreadable mask. "I . . .I know . . . I know it hurts you, and . . . I'm sorry. If I had known what Arnaud had done, what he was planning . . ."  
  
"No, Kevin." Darien croaked, his voice nearly failing him. "You didn't know."  
  
A tear appeared in the apparition's eye. "No, I didn't know. But Darien, you can't die yet. You can do so much good with the gland. And it's not your time."  
  
"I don't care if it's my time! I don't want this! I want to die! I want to be with you, and mom, and dad . . ." Darien's words were cut off by a sob and tears appeared in his eyes.  
  
Kevin's form shook it's head. "No Darien. It's not your time. We will be together again, but not now. Not now."  
  
Then, even as Darien watched through tear filled eyes, Kevin faded away until it was gone. But before Darien had time to truly realize what had just happened, the door to his apartment flew open. A rather panicked looking Hobbes appeared in the hallway.  
  
"_FAWKS!_"  
  
Darien warily turned and looked as his partner came barging into the room, took one good look at Darien's blood covered arm, a look at the knife on the floor, and then when off in search of a towel.  
  
Darien blinked and laid his head back down, not really noticing when Hobbes came back in and hurriedly wrapped his arm in a towel, trying to stop the blood flow. Darien didn't hear Hobbes calling 911 and yelling that an ambulance needed to get there like there was no tomorrow. Darien didn't hear Hobbes' frantic whispers of "It's gonna be okay, partner, you'll pull through."  
  
Darien was lost in his mind. Kevin's words confused him. _'You still have work to do.'_ What did he mean? What work? _'This isn't your time. We'll be together again, but not now. Not now.'_   
  
Finally Darien closed his eyes. He could feel his body being lifted, being placed on a stretcher and then loaded into an ambulance. He was content now. Kevin was right. Dwelling on the past didn't help anyone.   
  
Then, even as the medics worked frantically about him, injecting him and forcing more blood into his tired body, Darien was lulled to sleep, his brothers reassurances ringing in his head.  
  
_We'll be together again, but not now.  
  
We'll be together again.  
  
Together again.  
  
Together._  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
  
  
**Epilogue**  
Darien was taken to a local hospital where doctors worked on him and managed to get him stable. Darien woke up later to find Hobbes, Claire, and even the Official standing around his hospital bed. All had been deeply concerned and worried about him (even though the Official refused to admit it.) And Darien was reassured that yes, there _were_ people who cared about him. Darien was released from the hospital once his wound healed, and easily passed an examination by a mental therapist. Life returned to normal, or as normal as it gets for Darien anyway. And although Darien never told anyone else of seeing Kevin, he kept Kevin's words in his heart, and that has helped him deal with difficult situations he sometimes found himself in.  
  


~*~*~*~

  
  
**P.S.** Special thanks goes out to Liz_Z who told me where to find transcrips so I could get the little converstaion between Darien and Casey right. THANKS! ^_^  
  
  
**P.P.S.** Reviews are better than candy! (_hint hint_ ^_~)  
  
  
  



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